As the battle raged on, Zephyr scoured the banks of the White Rivers, his eyes darting from one passing figure to another in search of Desina, determined to bring an end to her. Each time he spotted a figure resembling her, they would vanish into hiding before he could confirm their identity. Frustration gnawed at him, evident in the steam that billowed from his flared nostrils.
"Where are you, Desina?" he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with a mix of anger and desperation.
Meanwhile, the river whispered its secrets, carrying the echoes of his frustration downstream. The wind sighed mournfully, as if mourning the lost time and energy spent in this relentless pursuit. But Zephyr pressed on, his determination unyielding, refusing to let the elusive Desina slip through his grasp
